A Paige in an Assassin's Book
by SylphinesBane
Summary: When Connor is injured a young Bostonian woman comes to his aid, but something else comes with her…Rated M for splashes of lemon in some of the chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A Paige in an Assassin's Book

First, I apologize for taking so long to write this, I wanted to finish it in completely before putting anything online. I do not own any Assassin's Creed characters, places, etc.

When Connor is injured a young Bostonian woman comes to his aid, but something else comes with her…

The afternoon was still damp and dripping from the three day onslaught of rain and wind and the sun seemed to glare harshly on Boston as though punishing it for the retreating clouds and general bad weather. The clatter of horse hooves on the pavement and the gentle clicking of human shoes was a welcome sound compared to the angry rumbling of thunder that had plagued the city for the past few days. People seemed to shield their eyes and shrink from the brightness, as though they had spent a lifetime hiding in darkness. Children ran happily from puddle to puddle as dogs barked in harmony to their innocent laughter. Paige lifted the hem of her dress to avoid the splashes caused by the playful children and the numerous wagons that filled the streets, their riders shouting about deliveries and apologizing for delays. She wound her way through the throngs of people filling the lanes and avenues, finally free of their temporary weather-induced imprisonment. She clung protectively to her basket, which contained the money she needed for this morning's purchases. Elizabeth, the woman she lived with, had been wary to let her go out, something about the wildness of the ruffians, liberated from their fever of been cooped up indoors. The supplies she was to obtain were greatly needed though, Elizabeth was married to a doctor and he constantly required herbs Paige could barely pronounce, bottles of strange smelling ointments, and bandages of various lengths and thickness. The man seemed to think he was still on the front lines of the war and wanted to horde as many supplies as possible. She was happy to oblige his whims, since he and his wife were like family to her, having taken her in as a child when she had been robbed of her own parents by a storm at sea. She did not know if she harbored any ill will toward ships since she had never been on one and the thought was far from her mind on this sunlit morning. She rummaged inside the basket, blindly searching for the list the doctor had neatly folded and handed her along with a pouch full of coins. While her hand felt for the paper, her eyes scanned her surroundings, she knew Boston wasn't terribly safe and a young woman alone was an easy target. She relaxed slightly as her fingers found the sheet of items she was to acquire and her eyes targeted the general store. She hastily weaved through the thick webs of people and was able to stumble inside the store, slipping on a wet board. The owner of the establishment quickly assisted her inside; proffering apologies to one of his best customers. The woman behind the counter greeted her in a familiar manner and thankfully was able to produce everything on Paige's list. She didn't want to have to go to another store in town, and she knew this place went out of their way to offer their clients hard to find items. Filling her basket with her goods, Paige thanked the owner and politely declined an invitation for tea, explaining that she really needed to be on her way. As she made her way through the muddy streets suddenly she was knocked off her feet and thrown into a wagon wheel sludge filled rut. She sat stewing in the muck for a few seconds, shocked as her assailant continued his rapid stride away from her and his pursuers who were screaming something about a theft. Paige waved her hands trying to shake the mud from her clothing, when a pair of boots appeared next to her. A solider stood to her left and offered a helping hand, which she gratefully took. He assisted her into a nearby alley to collect herself and her basket, which was thankfully intact and its contents safe. As he leaned his rifle on the brick wall of the building they stood next to, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began mopping the mud from her shoes and bottom of her dress. He discarded the filthy cloth and while her attention was still on plucking chucks of grime from her waist, he pressed her against the building and clamped his hand over her mouth. She struggled to free herself from the vise of his palm as he held her head in place. He reeked of drink and his rotting teeth peeked between his cracked lips as he gave her a drunk-induced smirk. She wanted to gag from the stench. Paige's eyes darted to the entrance of the alley, but the human traffic was so dense that no one paid any head to her plight. The other side of her confinement was littered with waste and what looked to be a still homeless man, passed out from probably too much enjoyment that the night before had given him. The solider leered at her, seeing her eyes plead the emptiness of the alley for help. He snatched the fold of her dress and began to inch his other hand underneath when a voice caused his eyes to widen.

"I do not think you want to do that…" The voice sounded strained and Paige realized that the vagrant that she saw lying in the trash was no longer there.

"Oh is that right?" The solider replied his words slurred, giving her a wink of confidence as he began to turn around. He never finished his movement, for the beggar's arms encircled his head and neck and forced the solider to the ground, silencing him. Paige's savoir remained on his hands and knees, his breathing sounding labored. She stood terrified that this man might turn on her, until she studied him closer. Dressed in a mud smeared white coat, with a bow and empty quiver on his back, she knew from being around a doctor most of her life that this man was injured. He wore a hood on his bent head so she had to kneel near him to see his face. His mouth was twisted in a grimace of pain and she immediately thought her would-be attacker had wounded him somehow. She gently placed her hand upon his shoulder and gave him a quick visual scan for any blood and there, dripping onto the unconscious solider her rescuer's life slowly mixed with the swamp of mud and refuse in the alley. He feebly, tried to push her away, but she would not budge.

"Sir, you are injured let me help you as you have helped me." She spoke softly, taking a gentle but firm hold of his arm. His answer was another exhausted shove, which Paige ignored.

"Please, I am in the employment of a doctor and I know the backstreets well. I can assist you in getting there, quickly and quietly." She waited for him to try and goad her away again, but he turned his head slightly in her direction and nodded limply. She staggered under his weight as she assisted him to his feet. He clung to the alley wall, doubting his legs. Plucking her basket from the mire, with the added burden of her savior, Paige tread through the backstreets of Boston to the place she called home. The path emptied before her of people who wanted nothing to do with a filthy young woman and an injured man. Those who lingered to stare gave them a wide berth. No one approached the duo offering aid, which did not surprise Paige since she was sure they looked and smelled terrible. His weight seemed to grow as they continued the slow shuffle toward the house and her arduous breathing began to echo his. She gave him a worried glance but only saw his mouth, his teeth clenched against the pain.

"We are almost there…" She stated trying to sound reassuring, but it escaped her mouth as a strangled gasp. She began to feel the trickle of sweat as it ran down her chest. She was sure her back was already soaked but all she could feel was the load of the man she was trying to help. She blinked grime and sweat from her eyes, wishing she could arrive at her destination sooner to deliver the man into the hands of the doctor. Each heavy step she took he emitted a suppressed moan. The exertion of almost carrying him made walking difficult, if their unsteady gait could be called walking. When Paige spotted the home, its roof towering over the houses next to it, she forced her body to hasten its steps, earning a pain-riddled groan from her partner. The neighbors gave her questioning stares as she eased the man near the back steps. He slumped against the side of house, his chin pulling his head to rest against his chest. She paused to be sure he wasn't going to completely fall over and satisfied that he wasn't going to topple, she rushed into the home, ignoring the stiff protests of her body. As she bolted into the kitchen, the cook screamed in alarm not recognizing the girl being covered in filth as she was.

"Molly! It is me, Paige, where is the doctor, please tell me he is here." She sputtered, rushing to catch her breath. Her heart thundered in her chest as panic took over.

"Sweet Lord, Paige! You gave me a terrible scare. What happened to you dear, you look horrid." Molly answered relaxing enough to approach the young woman, but she quickly backed away when the smell slapped her across the face.

"What in the world is the ruckus? Paige?!" The mistress of household arrived in the kitchen in a flurry of unpinned hair and an air of ruffled feathers. She turned up her nose at the sight of her ward.

"Miss Elizabeth, I was attacked and a man saved me but he is wounded…I brought him home he is outside on the steps." The explanation spilled from her mouth in a waterfall of words. She stood in the kitchen, her clothes leaking water mixed with sweat and mud, waiting for the shock the two other women gave her to wear off. As her declaration soaked in, Elizabeth sprung into action.

"Gerald! Gerald! We have a wounded man down here!" Elizabeth bellowed as she sprinted into the hallway and continuing shouting from the bottom of the stairs. Molly rushed into the room connected the kitchen which was used as a sick room for rare instances such as these. Paige could hear her clanking bottles and setting up the doctor's instruments and tools. Gerald and Elizabeth were exchanging hurried words as the two of them dashed into the kitchen.

"Paige, are you unharmed?" Gerald asked taking hold of her shoulders when he saw the state she and her clothes were in. When she nodded he looked around, presumably for the man.

"He is outside." Paige answered, gulping, fearing he might have wandered off or maybe even have died. Gerald carefully opened the backdoor and his hushed voice could be heard as he spoke to the man.

"Open the door!" He stated and Paige rushed to comply as Elizabeth stood transfixed her hands covering her mouth and fingers trembling in a fearful agitation. Gerald was helping the wounded man through the open door and into the sick room. Paige trailed behind as she watched Gerald ease the man onto one of the cots.

"Molly, help me remove his weapons and clothes. Elizabeth, get me some water and clean towels." He instructed the cook and his wife as he took control of the situation. Paige watched as the women complied with his commands. Gerald held the man upright as his weapons were removed from his person and then maneuvered his wilted form unto his back. The man replied with a soft groan as Gerald began to open his shirt. Paige could see the blood from where she stood in the doorway as Elizabeth glided past her with an armful of towels. As Gerald parted the man's shirt he grabbed a towel and pressed it firmly into the wound on the man's side. The man protested again, this time weakly trying to sit up and grab Gerald's hand.

"Stop…." He mumbled as Gerald tried to calm him.

"Easy son, you are going to be fine. I'm a doctor, try to relax. Molly, fetch the alcohol." The cook seemed more than happy to leave the room and she drifted past Elizabeth who bore a large bowl of water.

"Gerald…" She offered the water as she watched her husband treating the wounded man. He lifted the towel to see how much blood flow was escaping the wound. He nodded seeing that it was not a flood that the severity of the injury hinted at.

"Get that hood off of and start cleaning this muck off of him." He directed his wife as Molly wobbled into the room, her arms laden with bottles. In a huff, she unloaded the alcohol onto the floor by the doctor's feet, raising quite the clamor.

"My apologies sir." She mumbled, scrambling to stop some of the bottles from rolling underneath the cot. She grabbed one of the containers and popped it open, handing the open bottle into Gerald's waiting hand.

"Hold him…" Gerald warned the women as he gathered the bloodied towel in his hand and poured the fluid into the wound with the other. Elizabeth grasped the man's arm and leg as Molly took a firm hold of his shoulders. The man's shriek exploded in the room, causing Paige to cover her ears in terror. She watched as he fought against the women holding him down, but weakened as he was, it was not difficult to keep him pinned to the cot. As the doctor dispensed more alcohol into the wound, the man's cries softly ebbed away as he lost consciousness. Seeing that she would get no more resistance, Elizabeth gently pushed his hood from his face and began to clean the dirt that had begun to cake his features.

"Gerald, he is feverish." The doctor stood up and leaned over the man's face and felt his forehead and then his cheek. Paige watched as he gently pressed two of his fingers into the man's neck. As Gerald shifted back to caring for the wound, she looked closer at his face…her eyes widened in alarm…he had the features of a native. She took a few steps away from the doorway, drawing the attention of the others.

"Keep a cool towel to his forehead. Paige, you are still there? Molly, help her get out of those clothes." Gerald said as he focused on his patient. Molly clasped Paige's hands and dragged her away from the sick room, closing the door behind her.

"Let's leave the doctor to his work and get you out of those wet clothes before you find yourself in there as well." In a daze she allowed Molly to lead her upstairs to change and wash the grime from her body. As Molly left her to soak in the tub, Paige's thoughts took control in the silence of the room. A native! She had helped a native, she was frightened and curious. She had never seen a native this close and almost felt a strange thrill at the situation. Yet, he was not dressed as she would have imagined and he had saved her. She did not know how to feel, but at that moment she was startled and nearly jumped out of the tub when someone knocked on the door.

"Paige? May I come in?" It was Elizabeth. She sighed in relief and tried to still her pounding heart before answering.

"Yes Miss Elizabeth." The woman poked her head around the door as she opened it and smiled as she entered the room.

"How are you dear?" Elizabeth treated Paige like her own child most of the time, but it had been made clear years ago that she was merely the ward of a doctor and his wife. After her parents had died, she had been taken in by the Boston couple who had lost their eldest son in the Seven Years War and their other children were scattered throughout the colonies, Paige had never seen them only occasional letters that gave any proof to their existence. Molly had told her once that Gerald had been old friends with her father and felt obligated to take her in.

"Better, thank you Miss Elizabeth." She lied into the suds that covered her modesty. She lowered her eyes so they would not betray her fib to the older woman.

"That was a kind action you did for that man. He will live thanks to you." Elizabeth stated, pride in her voice for Paige. When she gave no response, Elizabeth verbally prodded her.

"Paige, are you sure you are fine? The man who attacked you didn't hurt you did he?" She asked pulling a chair closer to the tub and waiting for the girl to answer.

"No, he didn't. He touched me… and….and…. I am sure he was going to harm me in some awful way." She saw her vision blue as tears began to drip from her eyes. Elizabeth was suddenly holding her hand and squeezing it tightly.

"I knew you shouldn't have been going out for Gerald. I'll have one of the neighbor boys go instead. Don't fret dear, you are safe now. I will sit with you Paige, Gerald convinced Molly to help him with the young man and you know how squeamish Molly can be." Her last comment brought a soft peal of laughter from Paige who was beginning to feel a bit better now that Elizabeth had calmed her.


	2. Chapter 2

After rinsing the day away and resting, Paige felt a slight surge of bravery and quietly tiptoed downstairs. The aromatic scent of dinner hung heavy in the air as she made her way toward the kitchen. Molly stood busy by the fire and was too absorbed with her duty to pay any attention to the girl who was lurking around the room. Paige glanced nervously toward the sick room, where candlelight could be seen twinkling through the half open door. She peered cautiously into the room where Gerald had pulled a stool next to the cot the man was laying in while Elizabeth was cleaning the remaining mud and sweat from his body. Paige felt her cheeks flush, the man was wearing nothing save his breeches.

"Paige! What in sweet heaven are you doing?" Molly scolded. Paige flinched as she saw Gerald and Elizabeth both look up at her standing in the doorway. She turned around to face Molly, who had her hands planted on her wide hips, her graying hair frizzed by the heat of the fireplace, and her face reddened by the warm flames she was cooking over.

"I only wanted to see how he was." She stated defensively as Molly shook her head. A touch on her shoulder gave her pause and she slowly turned around to face Elizabeth.

"Young ladies should not be sneaking around. You can come in and help Paige, he won't bite." Elizabeth chimed ushering Paige into the sick room. As the two neared the cot, Paige got a closer look at the man. His skin was slick with sweat and his facial features were marred with pain. His chapped lips were parted and his breathing sounded ragged and forced. As Elizabeth knelt next to his head and tried to cool his face with a cloth he thrashed his head away from her and mumbled under his breath. Paige stood fearful; she wasn't sure how to react. She had seen her share of patients come and go from the home, but none as gravely wounded as this man. Gerald glanced up at her from his position on the man's right and gave her an encouraging wave to come forward. As she inched closer she saw the bandaging circling his lower torso and Gerald putting his sewing tools away.

"He was previously wounded and the stitches were pulled open." He spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the troubled rest of the man.

"He will live?" Paige whispered, her apprehension stealing the voice from her throat. Gerald nodded, drained. He had been sitting in the room for several hours, working diligently to do what he could to help the wounded man.

"He most likely has been feverish for at least a day or two already, since it has taken such a strong hold of him. He will need to rest for awhile, that gash was deep but it does not appear that he was shot; it looks more like a stab wound. I want someone to sit with him for the next few days just to watch him." Gerald answered, weary. He glanced at Paige when he mentioned wanting someone to stay in the sick room with the man.

"Me? Gerald, I know little of the healing arts…." She began to say when he took a firm hold of her wrist.

"He already knows you, in a way. If he wakes while you are here, I think the situation will be easier for us to handle. Do not worry; you need only make sure he is comfortable." He gave her an encouraging smile and proceeded to show her how to make him drink water. He coughed, producing various verbal complaints, but after gentle coaxing, he took the water down. Elizabeth produced various dry cloths to mop the sweat dripping from his fevered body and water to help keep his brow and chest cool.

"Do not be afraid, someone will be here with you. We will take shifts so someone will always be sleeping in this room." Elizabeth reassured her as Molly entered and announced dinner was ready. Gerald stated that he would take his meal in the sick room and that he wanted Paige to take the schedule after. She grudgingly agreed and dragged herself into the sick room after eating, she didn't want to be near him, he made her uneasy. Being kept awake in the deepest part of night by the sick and dying was something she could not get accustomed to no matter how often or rarely it occurred. Plus the fact that he was a native, she did not want to say anything to Gerald or Elizabeth since they never hesitated to help anyone no matter the color of their skin, but this was different…

"Paige, are you listening?" Gerald interrupted her thoughts. He was handing Molly his empty plate while explaining to Paige how to clean and bandage the man's wound. The man was becoming slightly volatile and much more vocal in his protests. Elizabeth and Paige had to hold him down as Gerald cleansed the wound and applied fresh bandages. Paige could hear the concern in Elizabeth's voice when she spoke out about how boiling his skin felt.

"The fever needs to burn itself out; the fact that he took a wound this deep and lived proves he is strong. I am confident that he will be fine." He smiled as he finished closing the bandage and began to settle himself into another cot that sat against the wall. Elizabeth motioned to the stool that Gerald had vacated and Paige shyly took her place at the man's side. Elizabeth handed her a cool cloth and moved the water bowl within Paige's reach. She gave her shoulder a comforting touch before leaving the room. The stairs leading upstairs gave a loud disapproval as Elizabeth made her way to her room for the night. Gerald's deep and relaxed breathing filled the room and clashed horribly with the wheezing of the man Paige watched over. She studied him in the dim candlelight, he didn't look much older than her but she had never been good at judging age. As though sensing her stare, he turned his head in her direction and groaned loudly. She quickly soaked the damp cloth in the cool basin of water and moistened his sweat drenched forehead. As she began to lift the rag from his brow, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. Frozen in terror she dared to look at his face and met his hazy eyes. She could see in the muted light that his eyes burned with fever and his face was deeply flushed.

"Where…" He choked, grimacing in agony at the pain the single word brought him. She opened her mouth, but could produce no sound. A strangled cry of anguish rippled out of his throat, waking Gerald who was at Paige's side instantly.

"Easy son, easy, Paige move." Gerald ordered, carefully prying her wrist free of the man's grasp. She jumped back once released, nearly falling onto the cot behind her. The man cried out again as Gerald began to examine the wound. She watched him writhe in pain as Gerald moved over him.

"Paige, I need your assistance. He's moving too much… calm down young man, you are in a safe place." She stood frozen as the man tired to sit up and push Gerald out of the way. He fell back onto the cot, his movement causing him too much pain. He lay moaning, his chest heaving. Without thinking, Paige rushed to his left side and took his hand in hers and began to slowly rub his knuckles.

"Sssshhhh, everything is all right. A doctor is here, relax." After a few laborious breaths, he began to calm down. He turned his head toward her and she could see him trying to focus on her face. She could see Gerald peeling the bandage off the injury from the corner of her eyes and the man's jaw muscles tense. She softly dabbed the cloth she was gripping in her hand over his face and neck as his eyes rolled back into his head and he became still. Her eyes darted to his chest and she released the breath she had been holding when she saw it rise and fall several times.

"He's fainted. The fever will be breaking soon if he's woken up already. This was a very good sign. You did well Paige." Gerald announced after checking to make sure the wound had not reopened. She continued to hold his limp hand in hers and looked up at Gerald. He was giving her an appreciative and respectful look. The warmth rose into her cheeks and she was thankful for the soft darkness, she didn't want Gerald to see her blushing. She didn't seek his esteem, but it did feel good to receive it from him.

"You should go back to sleep, I am wide awake now." Paige joked, trying to make light of the situation. Gerald gave her a pat on the arm in thanks and buried himself under some blankets on the cot. Paige turned her attention back to the man in front of her. He almost seemed to be sleeping a little easier, but his large hand in her tiny one still felt hot. She risked feeling the warmth of his forehead; he still smoldered under the weight of the fever. She retreated back to where the basin of water sat and began to sponge the sweat from his face. The soft trickling of water saturated the room as she wrung out the rag and resoaked it again. Placing against his neck she trailed it across his collar bone and down the side of his chest. As she satiated the thirst of the cloth again, she ran it slowly horizontally over his chest, feeling the steady pump of his heart and each inhale of breath he took. She did her best to avoid wetting the wrappings around his torso as she tried to smooth away the fever from his body. He really looked no different than any other man, not that she had experience on that topic, but living with a doctor she had seen men shirtless before. This one though, his presence permeated the room. She felt a strong will emanating from him plus he was huge. She had never seen such raw strength on a person before. Paige stared mesmerized as the droplets from the rag traced each curve of his muscles as they slid off his chest and torso. She had no idea how long she sat next to him, doing her best to smother the flames of his fever, until a warm glow peeked from the far window. As sunlight began to seep into the room, Paige heard someone moving in the kitchen and then the soft creak of the door opening. Molly's head appeared and she smiled when she saw Paige.

"How is the young man?" She whispered into the room. The soft hiss of her slippers met Paige's ears as the cook came over to the cot.

"He woke briefly and then fainted. His sleep wasn't troubled again." She answered stifling a yawn. Although their voices were hushed, Gerald woke and leaned over the man. He felt the beat in his neck and then checked his forehead for traces of fever.

"His fever broke. He still feels warm but not nearly as bad as he did yesterday." His voice still laden with sleep, Gerald still sounded pleased.

"I'll get some food ready, hopefully he wakes." Molly smiled and quietly exited the sick room. The clanging of pots could be heard echoing from the kitchen.

"He slept the rest of the night? You could have woken me Paige, you did not need to stay up all night with him." Gerald scolded her with the loving fatherly tone he used sometimes when they were alone.

"I didn't mind…" She yawned again and stretched the sleep out of her limbs. She didn't realize how sore she was from sitting in one position for so long. A soft rustle from the cot drew the attention of both of them. The man was stirring. Gerald quickly took the stool Paige had vacated and watched. The man inhaled deeply and flinched at the pain in his side. His eyes began to blink open.

"Paige, fetch a glass of water, quickly now." Gerald whispered, gently pushing her toward the door. As she left the room, she could hear the man moaning softly as he woke. She snatched a clean glass and dashed outside to fill it at the pump, ignoring Molly's questions. As she hastened her steps to return to the sick room, Gerald's voice could be heard. Paige recognized his doctor tone.

"How old is the wound?" He was asking the man as she handed him the full glass. His eyes strayed to Paige and she shrunk away from the man's gaze. His red-rimmed, fevered stare made her feel like a rabbit being sized-up by a wolf.

"A week…" He croaked, his voice raspy with sleep and exhaustion. Gerald knelt on the floor next to the cot and assisted the man in drinking from the glass.

"Slowly, take small sips, good. A doctor stitched the wound?" The man nodded in response and sank his head back onto the cot when he had his fill of water.

"With an injury as severe at that, you should not be up and around. The stitches were pulled out and part of the wound had reopened. When did the fever set in?" Gerald prodded him again with questions, wanting to get as much information from the man before he either fainted again or fell back to sleep.

"Two days…after…" The man answered closing his eyes in fatigue. Gerald began to unwrap the bandaging and Paige came closer in case she might be needed. Some blood spotted the wrappings, but nothing that had Gerald too distressed. He motioned to Paige for the alcohol and began to talk again to distract the man from what he was about to do.

"So you've been feverish for five days? Young man, I don't mean to pry, but what could be so important that you would risk your health?" Gerald asked, soaking a clean towel with alcohol and pressed it firmly to the injury. The man hissed and Paige watched him grip the side of the cot so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"My job…" He spat after catching his breath. Paige looked over to where his personal effects were resting, not only was he carrying two pistols, but he clearly knew how to use a bow and two strange blades worn on his wrists. What kind of profession would warrant such gear? Gerald looked over the wound again before applying clean bandages.

"Well, I'm afraid you won't be working for some time, that wound needs to heal. You're fever only just broke this morning…" Gerald was stern in his reprimand, but was unable to finish his sentence. The man began to sit up, ignoring Paige's hand as she tried to stop him.

"Stop please, you aren't well." She pleaded with him as Gerald took a hold of his shoulders.

"No, you're not going anywhere. I doubt you can even stand without fainting. I must insist that you lay back down." The man was too weak physically to prevent Gerald from easing him back down on the cot. He gave Gerald and Paige a harsh glare as Molly entered the room with a steaming plate of food.

"Oh! He's awake, good, good." She handed the loaded plate to Paige, with a fork and excused herself.

"Do you feel well enough to eat? I want to see if you can keep any food down." He took the plate from Paige and scooped up some eggs with the fork and tried to feed the man. He turned his head away in disgust.

"You need to eat…"

"Connor, my name is Connor." He forced the words through his pain-clenched teeth. Paige suddenly didn't feel as shy and scared in his presence, he had a name. Gerald smiled and responded by introducing himself and Paige.

"Well Connor, I would feel much better if you ate something." He said trying to persuade Connor to eat again.

"Let me." Paige said taking the plate back from Gerald. He gave her a surprised look and even a more shocked stare as Connor grudgingly accepted her assistance in eating.

"Thank you." Connor spoke under his breath when Paige scraped the last of the food onto the fork. She nodded, a bit embarrassed at the recognition of her aid. With empty plate in hand, Paige pardoned herself and left the room. She immediately felt worn out, her lack of sleep and the excitement of Connor finally waking causing her to lean heavily against the wall. As Elizabeth announced herself into the kitchen with the heavy tapping of her heels she looked shocked at Paige's tired state.

"Goodness Paige, you look positively tired. Did you stay up all night with that young man?" She nodded in response and explained that she needed to sleep. As she heaved herself upstairs to her room, she could hear Elizabeth and Molly gossiping about Connor. Dragging herself to her bed, she could only manage to pull off her shoes before collapsing into her inviting bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next week and a half, Paige worked closely with Gerald to nurse Connor back to health. He tried to sneak away once, only to be stopped because he was too weak to walk very far on his own and the racket he raised trying to get to the back door was enough to wake the dead. He stumbled several times like one drunk and fell into the wall, knocking several pictures to the floor, shattering the glass. Gerald decided it best to move him upstairs to Paige's room and she could share a bed with Molly. Paige found herself dreaming of Connor. Each nocturnal fantasy began the same, Connor would enter the room clad only in his breeches. His wound was absent as was the fever and pain that had clouded his visage for as long as she had known him. He would enter the room she was in silently, she had no knowledge of his presence as she slept peacefully in bed. Only when she felt his weight on the bed did she wake. He would climb into the bed from the bottom on his hands and knees, and slowly slink his way to her until her hovered above her. Her blanketed form hidden from view as his muscled body spread over her like a giant cape. He studied her face, his eyes piercing as he absorbed every detail. He would lean close and press his lips to her neck at the same time, drawing the blanket off of her. As he held himself above her with one hand the other trailed under her sleeping gown. He would cup her calf in his grip and massage under her knee and over her thigh. She would feel the gentle pressure he applied to her hip and gasp as his hand coerced her ribs to expand in a deep breath. As she held the air in her full lungs, his hand would at last embrace her breast. Contrary to his build, he was tender as he stroked her breast and ran his thumb over her full nipple. He delicately pinched her nipple causing her to arch her back. She would gasp for air as his lips molded over hers. Breaking the connection quickly, he hiked her gown to her waist and unfolded her body. As he knelt between her spread thighs, Connor moistened his fingertips and then dampened himself before peeling her open further enfolding his manhood into the steamy wetness of her body. She was tight between her legs having never been with a man before, but the pressure felt exhilarating; the friction and each moment he thrust fully inside her. At some point her sleeping gown had vanished and she was fully exposed to him. Her breasts were malleable under his hands and then his lips. He tasted her nipples, fondling them inside his mouth before softly nibbling on each one. Paralyzed by the ecstasy, she would finally gain the ability to move as her hands found his thrusting hips. The momentum pushed her up and down against the pillow which had escaped from under her head and now served as a cushion against the headboard. She sketched his hip bones with her fingers and traced the faint line of hair from his abdomen to his naval. She discovered each crevice created by his rippling muscles. Craving her touch, Connor would then pull her against him, her softness molding into his firmness…..and then she would wake up panting….she nervously glanced at Molly to make sure the woman hadn't woken and sank back into the bed thankful she hadn't. She shivered in her sweaty night clothes and tried to erase the erotic images from her mind, secretly wishing they would come true.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nice and slow." Gerald was assisting Connor up the stairs while Paige took up the rear. He held Connor's arm over his shoulder while carefully avoiding the wound. Connor's labored and painful breathing made Paige wince and it only ceased once they reached her room. Gerald maneuvered Connor onto the bed and waved Paige over.

"Help him undress, I will collect my things downstairs." Gerald slipped out of the room and took his time descending the wooden stairs. Alone in the room with him, Paige went over to the side of the bed he was sitting on and knelt down to remove his boots.

"I can do that myself." He stated somewhat harshly. She looked up at him and released his leg.

"Sorry." She apologized standing and moving to the other side of the room. She pretended to busy herself with her brush and mirror on her dresser as she listened to him struggle to remove his boot. When he gave a painful gasp, she was at his side instantly. He was bent double with his hand against his wound. Gerald came into the room carrying some medical supplies and joined Paige.

"Connor, I'm going to help you lay down.." Connor tried to move away but only succeeded in causing his injury to sting him further. Gerald indicated for Paige to swing Connor's legs onto the bed as he assisted him onto his back.

"Paige, I need more things from downstairs, I will be right back." Gerald left her alone again with Connor. She stood up and moved away from him, her feelings a little sore from his abrasiveness.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked, his voice callused and hard. He almost sounded like he thought she was going to benefit from the situation somehow.

"You helped me." She answered quickly and truthfully meeting his gaze. His eyes were intense and held no emotion and she was unable to win the staring contest. Her fingers found a fold in her dress and her eyes slid to where her hand absently rubbed the fabric. When she dared to look up, he was still staring at her, she nervously smiled and receded toward the dresser again. A woman's scream rose through the floor, pulling Paige to the door. A hand clasped over hers, stopping her from going any further. She looked at Connor who was suddenly next to her and tried to pull away from him.

"It might not be safe." He whispered as more screams erupted from downstairs. He stealthily slipped past her and she saw him peer down the stairs as he held his side.

"'ere the fuck is 'e?! We saw that bastard sneakin' off wit that little poppet 'o yours. Do you know what 'e did? Took out one of our boys 'e did." The intoxication of the speaker was clear through his heavy accent as was the terrified whimpering that played a steady undertone. An opera of broken glass, horror-filled screams, shouting, and something hitting the floor with a thud. Paige's fear pushed her forward but Connor's strong grip yanked her back. He slowly shook his head at her.

"Where are my weapons?" He asked in an eerily calm voice.

"In the sick room." She replied, barely able to articulate, so choking was her fright. He indicated she should stay where she was as he painfully made his way down the steps. She retreated to her room and crawled under her bed. Pressing her ear to floor she tried to listen what was transpiring on the first floor. The scrapping of metal on metal was hard to ignore as was the shouts of several men and the tormented cries of Molly and Elizabeth. A gunshot froze Paige and as did the unnatural silence that followed. Afraid to breath, Paige couldn't muster even the slightest boldness to move. She began to shake when a scraping on the wooden steps grew thunderous in the gagged house. Someone entered the room, but their heavy breathing gave them away before they even set foot on the topmost step.

"Paige?" Connor asked, his voice strained. Something hit the floor with a piercing clank and then the gradual sliding sound of fabric and a soft thump. She peeked from her hiding spot and saw Connor sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, he was splattered with blood.. Her concern winning over her fear tugged her from under the bed to his side. She nearly tripped over some kind of ax on the floor and averted her gaze when she saw the red dripping from its blade. Connor was sweating and she could tell from his heaving chest and periodic wincing that he was in pain.

"It is not mine….the blood…" He answered when she reached for the wound on his side to see if it had been reopened again.

"What…happened…?" She asked, her voice quivering. She knew though, the silence was proof enough.

"I am…sorry…men came for me…I killed them, but I was not fast enough to save them…" He meant Molly, Gerald, and Elizabeth. They were dead. Dead. She stood up and walked over to the window and stared out at the street below. The people were going about their lives as if the tragedy that had been performed in the house did not happen. They were not part of the audience, but they would hear of the reviews, they would know. She touched the window pane lightly with her fingertips, it had been warmed by the sun but felt like a hot plate compared to her blood drained hand. She held her hand up and watched in a stunned silence as it shook violently as though someone was trying to rip it from her wrist.

"Paige…we cannot stay here. Do you have a carriage? A horse?" Connor asked his voice cracking as he stood and walked over to her. She nodded still staring at her hand.

"A carriage…two horses…in the back…"


	5. Chapter 5

She woke with a start, bolting upright in the bed as though a nightmare had stolen her sleep. As she calmed her breathing, she heard a voice; a man was talking and then a soft knock on her door.

"Paige, are you awake?" A masculine voiced asked politely. When she didn't answer, the door opened and a man of slender build entered. He wore glasses and gave her a friendly smile.

"Paige, I'm Dr. White. How are you feeling?"

"Where am I? How did I get here?" She began to panic and did nothing to prevent it from escaping from her mouth in a flood.

"Relax, you are in a safe place. This is Connor's home, he brought you here the other day." He cautiously approached the bed she was sitting in and produced a chair. He placed it near the foot of the bed, a respectful distance, and sat down.

"Connor…is he…all right?" She asked pulling the blankets towards her chin. She was skeptical of this man and although he wore a pleasant smile, she did not know him.

"He is resting. Advice I gave him when he was first injured, Connor can be quite stubborn." He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"But…he will be fine?" She questioned again, remembering how difficult it was for him to move, how feverish he had been, how painful it had been for him to just breathe.

"He suffered a deep wound, which will take time to fully heal. He does need someone to care for him, for a time at least. I understand you assisted him in Boston." Dr. White replied his tone adopting a more serious note. Paige studied the bed sheets clasped in her fists and nodded, not wanting to remember Boston, not yet. A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump.

"It is all right, you are safe here." She shrunk away from him. Seeing her apprehension, he handed her a small smile before exiting the room. She listened as his footsteps became inaudible and then threw the blankets off herself and snuck to the doorway. Dr. White had left the door cracked open and Paige tugged it slowly open from the bottom of the door with her toe. There was a room across the hall with a similarly ajar door. Stealing a look from the room she was in, she quickly but silently made her way into the other room and carefully latched the door closed behind her.

"Ah, you must be Paige." A Scottish-accented female voice spoke, her tone barely above a whisper. Paige clutched her chest and nearly screamed until she saw who else was in the room, Connor. He appeared to be sleeping, the blankets of the folded at his waist. He was shirtless, the stark white of the bandages wrapped around the bottom of his ribcage, contrasting with the darkness of his skin. She watched the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest, noticing that he did not seem to be in any pain.

"He's been sleeping well. Dr. White asked me to sit with him for a spell, just to make sure he didn't wake up and need anything." The woman stated softly when she saw Paige's stare.

"I…I did not mean to intrude." Paige pressed herself to the door and began to open it to leave when the woman spoke again.

"It's all right dear, you didn't wake him and I could use the company. Dr. White needed some more bandages and medicine from his home." The woman indicated for Paige to come near the bed, where she saw a trash bin full of bloodied cloth, a small basin of melting ice, and a pitcher of water, the last two sitting on a night stand within reach of the woman. She introduced herself as Diana and that she lived nearby. She was Dr. White's assistant and a friend of Connor. She began to explain how Connor had become injured when he began to stir. Diana immediately stopped speaking and quickly moved from her chair to Connor's side. As she watched his face and tried to shush him back to sleep, her hand moved to the basin where a cloth was floating. She quietly wrung it and placed it on his forehead.

"Ssshhh Connor….sshhh." Diana left the cool cloth on his forehead and felt his cheek for fever.

"I guess I spoke too soon about how well he was sleeping." Although her tone was hushed, Paige could hear the worry and focus as Diana redampened the cloth and applied it to his brow again. He coughed, causing him to groan loudly as his eyes began to flutter open. He weakly lifted an arm, his hand limp and hanging as though it was too heavy to move, to push Diana away from him.

"Can you help me Paige?" She asked struggling to keep the waking Connor relaxed and still. Paige went to the other side of the wide bed, clasped his elbow to pull it back down to the comforter and held his hand. She scrutinized his face and his furrowed brow. He worn a mask of intense pain, from his clenched teeth, his tensed jaw, his eyes clamped shut against the agony, and his breath catching in this throat and escaping his mouth in gasps. She felt his grip tighten on her hand. Paige eye's caught movement and saw Diana wrapping the remaining ice from the basin in one of the cloths and pressing that to Connor's wound. He hissed and gave Diana a glare filled with loathing, but after a few moments he began to relax.

"Diana?" Dr. White walked into the room with a sack full of muffled jingling bottles, which he immediately dropped when he saw the situation. Diana moved out of his way as he leaned over Connor.

"I am fine…only sore." Connor mumbled, his voice crackling with exhaustion, as Dr. White examined the injury.

"He woke not long after you left." Diana stated hovering near Dr. White waiting to be needed. Paige saw him glance at her and his mouth turning up in a small smile when his eyes fell on her hand gently clasping Connor's. Embarrassed, Paige released his hand and lingered on the bed, desperately wanting to excuse herself, but not wanting the attention her leaving would have caused. She stared at the door longingly.

"Paige? Let's give Dr. White some time." Diana said escorting the young woman out of the room. She latched the door behind her and walked with Paige back to the room she had been sleeping in. Diana began to talk of someone named Ellen and how that woman had dropped off some old clothes for Paige to use, that her daughter Maria was about Paige's size. Paige watched absently as Diana rummaged through a crate of clothing. As she droned on about the colors, Paige found herself in front of a window staring outside. There were so many trees and in between their branches she could see some paths beaten down by human feet. Rocks of various sizes poked out from the lush grass that carpeted the landscape. Bushes dotted the terrain and birds crowded the azure sky above. She had never seen so much green, having been raised in a human infested, building heavy city. She was thankful she wasn't there; she didn't want any reminder of what had happened.

"Paige, are you feeling well?" Diana asked bringing her attention back to the room and the clothing resting on the bed and the floor. Paige tried to muster the best fake smile she could, hoping Diana couldn't tell how lost and alone she felt. All that she had known had been misplaced never to be found again. She was swimming in strangers, who although were offering her a buoy to float upon, she still felt like she was sinking in a vast emptiness. She had been too young to remember the loss of her parents, but this is what it might have felt like had she been older when they died. All that she had known was gone,; the bed she had dreamed upon, the brush she had run through her hair, the table she had eaten on, the creaking steps that led to her bedroom, Elizabeth, Gerald, and Molly…gone. Seeing the clothes spread out in the room, a reminder of her loss brought tears to her hers.

"Paige…" Diana spoke with sympathy and embraced her as her sobs became uncontrollable. If all she had grown to know, to love, had vanished, who was she? Those people, those items, they had defined her, proof that she existed and where were they? Drowned in pools of blood….her bawling brought Dr. White into the room who spoke quietly to Diana as she held Paige. She couldn't hear their exchange over her crying, but when Dr. White left the room, Diana guided Paige to the bed and helped her under the blankets. Diana held her hand as she cried herself to sleep…


	6. Chapter 6

Time passed in the room Paige occupied, how much she did not know. She lay in the bed, eating whatever was given to her and bathing when she was told. She noticed little of Diana and Dr. White's comings and goings; they passed like specters through her bereavement. Sunlight and darkness were her only constant companions, as were the shadows that traveled slowly across the four walls she hid behind. She hardly spoke, handing out one word responses like candy until finally no one spoke to her at all. She could hear the whispers about her hidden behind cupped palms and she didn't care. Let them talk; it was only words, meaningless words to ears that had become deaf. She would wake most mornings her faced coated in dried tears and her pillow damp. She would curl up underneath the blankets that had become her shelter feeding the empty hole that she felt in her chest. Nothing mattered, except that gapping chasm. That fissure grew into a safe haven, an escape from the tragedy that she had plummeted into….

"Paige…." A voice echoing in the crevice she had sunk into. Her name was spoken again…it was a tone used for trying to wake someone gently from a deep sleep. The speaker, his voice sounded familiar, someone from her past. His…it was a man…she could hear the patience behind his voice; he would continue to repeat her name until she acknowledged him. She moved, uncoiling from her serpentine ball, and turned her head to see who spoke.

"Connor…" She rasped, her throat dry from neglect. He looked completely unlike the man she had met. His eyes were clear and piercing, free from fever. He sat steady in the chair he occupied, his hand held protectively over where his wound must have still stung his side.

"Dr. White insisted I get some fresh air. You should join me." He stated, his words not a request but a slight demand. She sat up in the bed and felt compelled to do what he said. He eased himself out of the chair, using it as a crutch to stand.

"I will be downstairs." He limped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Paige stood on shaky legs and made her way to a small wash basin on a dresser. She gazed at her reflection in the small mirror, fearful of whom she might see. Her eyes widened at the pale, gaunt young woman who stared back at her. Her unkempt hair and sunken eyes reminded her of someone infected with the slow fever. She quickly removed the mirror and placed it against the wall on the floor, the reflective side facing away from her. She did her best to look like a person again, finding a brush on the dresser and wrangling with the knots in her hair. The clothes that Diana had given her were neatly folded in the sturdy wooden drawers of the dresser. Paige picked the first dressed her hands found and hastily clothed herself, not wanting to keep Connor waiting. As she pulled on and laced her boots, skipping out of the room with them half on, she saw Connor keeping watch at the bottom of the staircase. She quickly descended the steps and he greeted her with s small smile. No words were exchanged between them as they exited the home and began walking down the path. Connor's gait was slow and Paige could see him cradling his wound from the corner of her eyes. She made no protest to the slow stroll; she felt tired and drained herself. As they continued to walk, they were stopped by several people who greeted Connor, all of whom exclaimed their happiness upon finally seeing him up and about. Each one questioned his health and gave Paige a friendly salutation when Connor introduced her. As they maintained their wandering, Paige began to enjoy the scenery, the distant sounds of a blacksmith and someone sawing wood reached her ears and the smells of the clean forest air was a welcome scent. She didn't realize how stale the air in the house had become until she smelled the outdoors. She began to relax, this was a safe place and she felt out of harm's way with Connor next to her. The people were welcoming and appeared to have great respect for Connor, who was humble toward them. Lost in her thoughts, she nearly ran into Connor when he stopped at a home with a small garden in front and a tent set up nearby. He approached the door and knocked.

"Connor! Please come in." Diana answered the door, the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up and she was toweling her hands dry with a cloth. Paige suddenly felt apprehensive, which Connor instantly sensed,

"This is Dr. White's home." He stated, placing a hand on her back and guiding her inside. She knew he felt resistance since he applied more pressure to her back as Diana closed the door behind them.

"I will let Dr. White know you are here." Diana smiled as she indicated for Connor and Paige to enter a room off to the right where several chairs and a couch were resting. As Diana's footfalls disappeared up a flight of stairs, Connor eased himself painfully into a chair and pointed at an unoccupied one for Paige. She was tentative, but sat down, settling herself on the lip of the seat, to quickly get up if she needed. Dr. White's entrance startled her as he inquired about Connor's health and sleeping habits. She busied herself with picking at her nails, when she realized both men had stopped speaking and were staring at her.

"Paige? How are you?" Dr. White said, a smile in his voice as well as his face.

"I am well thank you." She replied quickly, the words rolling off her tongue from continued use. Connor's face betrayed no emotion when her eyes met his. She glanced away and tried to focus on the paintings on the walls. Dr. White asked Connor to come upstairs with him so that he could examine the injury, leaving Paige alone. She was curious about Connor, but felt more comfortable alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Dr. White led Connor into a room upstairs and latched the door behind him. He noticed the way Connor favored the wounded side of his body and that he walked with a slight limp, indicating that walking was painful.

"It is still bothering you that much?" He asked suggesting with an outstretched hand that Connor should sit on the wooden table in the middle of the room. The young man nodded and winced as he lifted himself onto the table.

"Yes, but it is tolerable." Connor replied trying to find a position that didn't cause too much pain.

"Open your shirt please, I would like to see how it is healing." Dr. White asked as he filled one of his hands with clean bandages and as Connor unbuttoned his shirt. Dr. White gently parted Connor's shirt and carefully felt the dressed wound. He instantly felt the young man tense and a grunt of pain muffled in his throat. He continued to examine the area around the injury, feeling how swollen the wound still was and producing more muted sounds of pain from Connor.

"Relax." He said gently, moving his other hand to Connor's shoulder to try and hold him in a straight position as Connor began to lean forward in pain. He proceeded to unwrap the injury and was happy to see no blood on the dressings. The gash was ugly, but Dr. White could tell it wasn't infected and was healing slowly but well. He replaced the wrappings with fresh ones and began to inquire further about Connor's health.

"You look tired Connor, are you having trouble sleeping again?" He saw that Connor did not want to discuss that subject by the way he turned away as he buttoned his shirt.

"I am fine." His voice indicating that he wanted no more discussion on the subject. Dr. White chuckled softly to himself and thought it best to change the topic.

"Connor, I am concerned about you, I must insist that you sleep more. Anyway, I am glad to see Paige finally up and about. I was becoming worried, she has taken the situation quite hard." He stated tossing the old bandages into a trash bin under the table Connor was still sitting on. Connor's features softened at mention of the girl.

"I understand how she feels…." He replied, his thoughts on his own experiences. He did know how she felt.. too well.

"Then she is in good hands." Dr. White answered giving Connor an encouraging nod. Connor slipped himself off the table and began to walk toward the door when Dr. White stopped him.

"More rest, do you understand?" Only when Connor gave a grudging nod did Dr. White let him leave the room. He watched as Connor took each step slowly and carefully as to not jar his wound. He heard Diana's voice float up from where she was cleaning some of his medical tools and then the door open and close as Connor and Paige left. He was concerned for Connor as well as Paige, one was emotional injured and the other physical. He signed and joined Diana to assist her in scrubbing his instruments.

. . .

"Are you well?" Paige asked Connor shyly as the two began their walk upon leaving Dr. White's home.

"Yes." He answered simply. Paige assumed he did not want to discuss the matter any further due to his lack of any explanation. She mentally nodded to herself and decided to remain silent as they continued walking.

"Are you?" His question surprised her and she felt embarrassed. She wasn't sure how to answer so she stopped walking and stood in the middle of the path staring at him. He had taken a few more steps and turned to face her.

"Paige?" He began to backtrack to where she was standing, fixed in place. She averted her face from him as her eyes began to tear up. She drifted off the path toward the woods and she could hear him quietly following her.

"Leave me alone please…" She struggled to keep her voice steady but it cracked like a damn and the flood began to drench her face. She staggered through the underbrush, trying to escape the pain and a public breakdown but she could feel Connor trailing her.

"Stop. Paige stop." She felt him grab her upper arm. She tried to fight back at him first by yanking her arm away from his grasp and when that failed she turned on him, balling her fists and striking his chest. He stood still and silent like a statue as she weakly assaulted him. She began to wail and sob uncontrollably as she sunk to the ground. Everything that she had endured came crashing down upon her. He continued to hold her arm as she wept at his feet until she heard the soft crunching of branches and leaves and the pressure on her arm ease. Between her tear-blurred vision she saw him kneeling in front of her.

"Running from the pain does not make it vanish. You are safe here; no more harm will come to you, I promise." His voice adopted a comforting tone and she felt him touch her shoulder. He guided her to her feet and escorted her back to the house as she sniffled and choked on her tears. As they neared the home, a woman was standing outside the door and pivoted to face them as their feet announced their approach.

"Connor…Paige…" She greeted them and Paige recognized her as someone they had passed on the path on their way to Dr. White's. What was her name again? Prudence?

"Prudence, is something wrong?" Connor indicated for Paige to go inside the house and she caught snippets of their conversation as the door slowly closed. She stood in the foyer, the voices outside muffled and stepped forward slowly. Her body ached from the episode she had in front of Connor. Not only were her eyes drained of tears but any emotion had also poured completely out of her. She felt numb as she glanced around the empty house. The faint grinding of the door knob turning broadcast Connor's entrance into the house.

"Prudence has invited us over for supper." He stated, his tone indicating that she had no choice in the matter. She nodded, the mention of food suddenly making her realize she had not eaten in some time. She grasped the banister and hauled herself upstairs to wash the sadness from her cheeks. She felt Connor's eyes on her and she turned midway up the stairs. His eyes betrayed an emotion: an understanding sorrow. He broke the stare and hobbled out of her field of view.


	8. Chapter 8

Days melted into weeks as Paige lingered in Connor's home. He never once asked her what her plans were, but did he occasionally ask if she was well. She felt obligated to ask about him as well, remembering how horribly injured he had been. She found herself watching him when she thought he wasn't looking, but he would catch her every single time. She noticed he wasn't moving with such care anymore but he would absently cradle his side sometimes. He began to leave the home for days at time as well, explaining to her that he had work to do. As she became more comfortable in his presence she asked him once what he was doing when he would leave the homestead and he gave her such a vague but simple answer,

"Protecting people"

She accepted his answer, not wanting to pry, but she had the feeling it was something dangerous since she had seen the array of weapons he carried. While scrubbing his clothes at the river with Catherine and Diana she had discovered blood splatter on most of his clothing. She had been startled at first and actually confronted him about the stains. He had shrugged, dismissing the splatter and told her plainly that it wasn't his. Paige knew the other women had seen it but they never inquired after it. She found herself worrying about him when he was away. In his absence Paige had been welcomed into the homestead community without question. At Dr. White's home she found a solace for her loneliness, he was the most kind to her next to Connor, especially when she had let slip one day that she had lived with a doctor and his wife for several years. Since she already held some knowledge of medical practice, he was more than happy to teach her more. He would ask her frequently about Connor, specifically how he was feeling. She always answered truthfully, explaining that his wound still seemed to bother him slightly but he never complained. Dr. White's response stuck in her mind, he had laughed and said Connor would never complain, he was a doer not a whiner. In her solitude her thoughts strayed to him, to Connor. In the anonymity of the night, in the empty home her dreams were again filled with him. Despite all that had happened to her, Connor was the one who had taken her from the killing house in Boston and allowed her a safe solace in his own home. She knew it was how he was, that he had no feelings toward her, besides those of friendship. Yet, she could not occupy her mind with anything else except him.

The dream began the same, she was in bed and he entered the room clothed only in his breeches. This time though, she knew he was there before he slunk into the bed. She smiled at him as he stood at the foot of the bed, gazing at her hungrily. He licked his lips in anticipation and clawed at the blankets, dragging them off of Paige and the bed, slowly, deliberately. Only after the bed was bare did he leisurely sneak into the bed to finally stop when he was standing on all fours above her reclining form. As he leaned to kiss her, she seized his head, forcing his lips to press hard into hers. She felt more courage in this dream state then she ever would in real life. She felt his hesitation as the kiss continued, but he quickly reciprocated by kneading his mouth against hers. She glided her hands from his head to the back of his neck, rubbing his muscles, feeling them ripple under her fingertips. Paige felt Connor begin to shift his weight above her, he begins to move away from her, moving her back off of the bed but making sure her lips are still locked with his. In a swift movement, he is on the bed and she has draped his torso with her lithe form. His hands begin to explore the fabric of her dressing gown, rubbing it against her back and between his fingers as he blindly searched for the hem to separate the clothing from her skin. Paige allowed her full weight to press against Connor's solid chest. She could feel herself softly rising and falling with his breathing. As one of his hands uncovered her bare back, he used the other to guide one of her hands to the side of his chest. Connor's finger tips traced the crevice of her spine, sending shivers throughout her body. She was so occupied with his attentions she didn't realize she was neglecting him until he striped his lips from hers and whispered into her ear.

"Touch me…" The simple statement and how his warm breath caressed her ear startled her. Recovering quickly as soon as his moist lips reconnected with her, Paige found the exposed skin of his waist and tired to mold it like clay between her fingers. She applied the same acupuncture as her fingers traveled to his chest. She traced the muscles, feeling them swell with each breath. As their mouths maintained their exercise, she found his nipple and immediately pried her mouth from Connor's and pressed it instead to the sensitive area on his chest. His body inflated like a balloon and the tendons in his neck stretched taunt as he groaned in pleasure. Connor's actions began to pick up speed as he reached for her breasts that were flattened against his chest. He pushed her to a straddling position and slipped her gown up over her head and onto the floor. She felt so exposed and wrapped her chest into her arms. Connor lightly placed both of his hands on the sides of her waist and allowed them to drift to her bent elbows. He encircled his rough hands around her slender arms and glided them to her own hands. He met some resistance when he grasped her protective hands and tried to pull them open. He whispered again, this time telling her not to worry. She allowed him access to her breasts which he fondled with care. He cupped one in each hand and softly squeezed. She arched her neck and back against his legs, which he had propped behind her for balance. She felt him becoming familiar with her curves and the delicate softness of her nipples. He outlined each one before pinching them carefully between his thumbs and forefingers. He rubbed them as he applied more pressure to the pinch. She lay against his thighs, completely unfolded. Her arms hung limp at her sides as her head lolled backwards in elation. She felt him between her divided legs, a growing firmness. Her body desired that as she subconsciously opened herself even wider to him, the sweet moistness between her thighs craving him. He quickly kept her steady as he yanked his breeches off and snagged her undergarments in his hands and freed them of her person. He was completely erect and lifted her effortlessly by the waist and eased her onto him. She gasped and fell forward, catching herself with her palms against his abdomen. She felt the unyielding strength underneath her as fought to keep her upright while penetrating her at the same time. She felt her body accommodate him, stretching as he fully pierced her….

Paige woke to find her legs completely open and her hand coated in her fluids. Embarrassed and thankful she was alone in the house, she scrambled to her wash basin and cleaned herself of her private indecency. Her heart still pounding from the dreamed encounter, Paige forced herself to get back into bed and fall back asleep. She almost felt filthy, why was she having such nocturnal imaginations? She was grateful that Connor was not around; she didn't know how to face him after having such thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

One steamy summer night, as Paige returned to the home she shared with Connor from Dr. White's, she noticed the front door slightly ajar. She smiled, thinking Connor had come home but then realized he would never leave the door open, plus the inside of the house was dark. Cautiously, she approached the door when someone clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her inside. She struggled in vain, whoever was holding her was huge and strong. A drunk fume of liquor-laden breath, chocked her nostrils and raucous laughter rang in her ears.

"Well, well…looks like we found lit'le poppet…and all lone in this fancy mansion." That voice! The men who had killed Gerald, Elizabeth and Molly. Paige panicked and began thrashing in her captor's arms before she bit hard into the hand over her mouth. She was greeted with the metallic taste of blood and a wall as the man who held her slammed her into one of them. Lights twinkled in her vision as a boot slammed hard into her side.

"Fuckin' bitch!" She was kicked again and as consciousness began to leak out of her all she could think of was Connor…

"Get away from her now!" As Paige lay sprawled on the floor in the darkness she could hear several men taunting her savior as well as the sickening sound of metal craving into flesh. The pain from being kicked radiated throughout her body making it difficult to breath. She gasped on the floor, forcing herself to stay awake, even though an even greater darkness was tugging violently on her mind. Without warning, she was roughly dragged to her feet and held against someone.

"'ne more step and I'll fuckin' kill your lit'le poppet…" A strangled voice hissed next to her head. The person holding her struggled to maintain their footing and in her dazed mind she wondered why she was being jostled so much…was the person injured?

"Do not test me." An angry voice responded before a gunshot deafened her ears. Paige was jerked backwards before slamming into the floor. She felt the floor erupt in a flurry of sprinting boots and then a familiar voice yelling her name in dread. The voice was close; she could feel someone's warm breath on her cheek. A jab of pain nearly threw her into complete darkness as she forced her eyes to open. Connor was barely inches from her, but he wasn't looking at her. She realized he was actually carrying her. She raised her hand, slowly sliding in inside his hood to touch his cheek. She felt his attention drawn to her before she began to fade into darkness.

"Con...nor…." She whispered before passing out completely.

. . .

The next several days were a blur of half wakefulness and sharp stabs of pain. Paige learned that the men who had murdered her adoptive family had found her and had most likely planned to use her life against Connor. Apparently they were after Connor, not her. She was told by Diana one morning as the woman helped her dress that Connor had sat by her bedside every night.

"He was very protective, Dr. White and I were even given a few harsh words when we came to check on you. Did you know that Connor had been hunting those men ever since you started to live here? He mentioned it the other day to Dr. White." Diana explained casually. Her comments gave Paige pause…Connor had told her she would be safe because he had been trying to keep her safe. She had wanted to thank him, but Diana said he had been gone for the past three days.

"When Dr. White told him that you were through the worst of it, he disappeared. I wouldn't worry dear, Connor always comes back."

Diana was right, Connor returned to the home that night. Paige had been in his room tidying when she felt like she was being watched. She twisted slowly, her heart pounding, fearing what or who might be lurking behind her. When she saw the familiar off-white coat she ran into his arms. He was startled by the embrace, but after a few moments she felt his arms encircle her. She snuggled her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His shirt caressed her face as his chest rose and fell with each breath. She felt his hand hesitantly stroke the top of her head as his fingers trailed through her hair.

"I am glad to see that you are feeling well." His voice vibrated in his chest as he spoke. She could smell the woods on his clothes, the sweet aroma of outdoors. He could feel the softness of her body as she pressed herself against him. He was not entirely sure why she had rushed into his arms but it felt comfortable to hold her, until he felt the wound in his side protest. He instantly broke the embrace and stepped away from her. His hand reached for the injury and he tenderly touched his side.

"I...I'm sorry Connor…." Paige apologized, suddenly ashamed at her outburst of physical contact and emotion. She slipped out of the room and down the steps into the kitchen. There was a package on the table and upon investigation, Paige saw it was meat that Connor must have killed that day. She quickly unwrapped the meat and began to prepare a meal for them. She began to mentally berate herself, how could she act so childish, rushing into his arms like she was some child happy to see their father return home after a long trip away. She was so busy judging herself that she didn't hear Connor enter the room.

"Paige." The knife she was holding tumbled out of her hand and clattered on the floor. She quickly bent to retrieve the utensil but Connor beat her to it and placed it on the table. She reached for it but he slid the utensil out of her reach. He was forcing her to have a conversation with him.

"Are you unwell? Are your injuries bothering you?" So naïve were his questions that she almost smiled. Yet, she could not claim to have any understanding of men. He did not comprehend that she had tried to show him affection and that she was embarrassed that he did not really reciprocate. She should have felt relieved that he did not understand, but she only felt more stupid.

"I am well, I….Diana told me about those men…that you were trying to track them down." She glanced at his face to see his reaction. There was a small smile on his face.

"I protect those who cannot protect themselves." He replied handing her the knife and leaving the room.


	10. Chapter 10

The meal that evening was eaten in silence, Paige still feeling foolish about her actions toward Connor and Connor stating that he needed to catch up on his ledger work. As she cleaned the table and Connor retreated into the office near the front of the house, Paige's attention was drawn to movement outside the window. She rested a drying plate on the table and leaned closer to the pane…nothing. She still felt jumpy and on edge, but seeing the candlelight glimmering from down the hall was a comfort, Connor was not far away. He was too far away though to stop the rock that came soaring through the window, barely missing Paige's head. The spray of glass drew Connor's attention as he grabbed Paige and literally threw her out of the room. Several gunshots echoed off the walls as several men climbed through the broken window. Paige cowered in a corner and watched. Connor's movements were fluid and brutal. He wielded blades on his wrists, drenching the floor in blood. The gurgling sound of men choking on their own life before they even hit the floor rang in harmony with the scraping of metal on metal. Within minutes the battle was over, five men were either in their final death throes or already dead, drowned in their own blood. Connor's heavy breathing was the only sound, but Paige could swear she heard a gentle splattering on the floor from his weapons. She was unable to move from where she huddled until she saw Connor stagger and lurch toward the table for support. She rushed to his side, ignoring the bodies littering the floor, slipping on the gore.

"Connor!" In the dim light all she saw were dark stains on this clothing and could not tell what was his and what wasn't. A groaning from behind her caught her attention as one of the dying men tottered in their direction, finding strength in the end to try and take someone else with him. Without thinking, Paige grabbed the knife on the table and stabbed the man through the neck, screaming as she hit muscle, sinew, and finally bone. The man dropped to the floor joining his comrades in death. Paige stood still turning her sticky hands over in front of her, in disbelief of what she had just done.

"Dr. White…" Connor growled against the pain. Paige ran for the door and bolted outside to Dr,. White's home. She ran like she was being chased, tears streaming behind her. The darkness swallowed her whole, but she moved through it like a ship at full sail. She slammed into the door of her destination, pounding on the wood like one mad. She was still berating the door when it opened and she nearly fell into the house. Panting, she was able to get enough words out to have Dr. White moving as fast as her. Her raucous brought the attention of Norris and Big Dave who were loitering on the road after leaving the inn from a night of drinking. They railed to her side, assisting her in standing so out of breath she was and on the brink of a fit. Dr. White instructed for one of them to find Diana, while he collected some medical supplies and jumped on a horse. Big Dave ran back to the house with her, doing his best to calm her down, repeating that Connor was going to be fine and that she was also going to be fine. She felt so lightheaded and fear of finding Connor dead on the floor was more than she could handle, she began crying and slowing her pace. She started wailing and becoming hysterical. Big Dave took firm hold of her shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"Paige, I've seen Connor do some things I thought no man could do. Even injured, he can still take down a bear." She choked on her tears while whipping her nose on her dress sleeve. Big Dave was right and she knew it, she had just seen him take down five men and he was still recovering from that horrid wound. She nodded to him and he gave her a gentle slap on the shoulder as they ran up the front steps.

"Connor!" Dave shouted as he burst through the front door. Connor was sitting on the bottom steps of the staircase, leaning heavily on his knees. Even in the hazy darkness, it was obvious he was wounded, as he swayed to stay upright. Paige knelt next to him and took his hand; the other still gripped his tomahawk fiercely. Dr. White was not far behind with Diana. Paige scooted out of the way as the two came to Connor's aid. Dr. White asked Big Dave to help Connor get upstairs. The blacksmith hoisted Connor off the steps and draped the wounded man's arm across his shoulders. Connor complained loudly in groans and heavy, tense breathing. Slowly, the group ascended the stairs and entered Connor's room. Dr. White ordered more candles to be brought in and lit as he instructed Big Dave to sit Connor on the edge of the bed so he could be easily undressed. Paige helped Diana gather candles as Connor's verbal objections became louder and more irate. As Paige dug though drawers and cabinets for candle holders, Dr. White began calling for Diana. Weighed down by candles, the woman made her way back to the bedroom with Paige in tow. Big Dave was holding Connor upright as Dr. White was struggling to remove his weapons. Connor was attempting to explain how to remove the blades on his wrists, but he was in an injured stupor and was having difficulty explaining. Paige rested the candles she had found on a chair and came to their assistance. She knelt in front of Connor and began unfastening his bracers. She forced herself to ignore the blood splatter on his hands and clothes. Dr. White gave her a pat on the shoulder in thanks and began unbuckling the rest of Connor's gear. She stepped away with his blades in hand and placed them against the wall and when Dr. White began passing her his other weapons and gear, she gathered them together and placed them out of the way. Connor's painful outbursts drew her attention and she stood at a fearful distance at the foot of his bed. Dr. White was slowly pulling Connor's coat off and a wound in his shoulder was giving him grief. Paige felt a rush of déjà vu as Dr. White began unbuttoning Connor's shirt and easing that off of him as well. He tossed the stained clothing onto the floor and with Diana's assistance, maneuvered Connor onto his back. Paige pulled her gaze off the injured man and began lighting the candles and placing them around the room for more light. The room illuminated Connor's prostrate form as Dr. White sat on the bed next to him and examined his wounds. Diana thanked Big Dave and politely asked him to leave so as to not disturb Dr. White. As the blacksmith glanced worriedly at Connor from the doorway, he gave Paige an encouraging nod and made his way heavily down the stairs.

"Diana did you bring clean towels? I need to get this bleeding under control." Dr. White stated, grabbing a towel from Diana's outstretched hand and pressing it firmly into Connor's shoulder. Connor's grimace was excruciatingly obvious as he turned his head toward the wound and raised his hand to stop Dr. White.

"Connor, relax." Diana took his arm and held it against her. She began to speak in hushed tones to him to keep his mind off the injury. Paige watched as he flinched and his jaw muscles bulged against the pain. She felt helpless as the stains of red on the bed began to grow.

"He's been shot, Diana bring my tools over here I need to get the bullet out." Dr. White sounded irritated as Diana complied quickly to his request. The clinking of metal could be heard through the leather bag Diana carried over to the bed. Dr. White instructed her to keep pressure on the wound as he spread the metal instruments on the bed.

"Paige dear, find something hard for Connor to bite down on please." Diana asked softly, her voice barely audible under Connor's vocal complaints. As Paige looked around the room, her eyes continually strayed to him. The blankets under his shoulder were soaked with blood and he was drenched in sweat. His eyelids were blinking rapidly as though he was trying to stay awake. Dr. White had removed the bandaging covering Connor's older wound and was examining it delicately as he waited for Paige. She peered over and saw Connor squeezing his eyes tight against the pain and wringing the bed clothes in his fist. Spurred on by his agony, Paige found a piece of wood in the fireplace and offered it to Diana who nodded in approval.

"Bite down Connor." She said in a motherly tone as she mopped the sweat from his brow. As he took the wood between his teeth, Diana gently turned his head away from the wound and placed an alcohol bottle in Dr. White's waiting hand.

"Paige I will need your assistance. Please help Diana hold him down as best you can, she will handing me tools and won't be able to control him very well. He will be in intense pain, do not be afraid." He gave her an encouraging smile and turned his attention to his task. The first scream Connor attempted to muffle indicated Dr. White had begun to dig into the wound searching for the bullet. He arched his neck as the tendons seemed to want to burst out of him. His whole body tensed, his muscles flexing as he fought with himself to try and be as still as possible. He roared again as Paige swore she could hear the wood in his mouth cracking. She didn't need to restrain me as much as she would have thought, he knew he had to keep as still as possible. Dr. White was practically sitting on his legs with Diana stationed at his head within reach of the medical tools and towels to seep up blood that seemed to be bubbling from Connor's shoulder. Paige held a hand to his good shoulder and his wrist. She had been wary to hold his hand for fear he would crush hers. The bed shook with his torment as Dr. White continued to excavate the hole. The jingle of metal shards hitting the floor was the only indication that any progress was being made. Paige was applying pressure to his wrist in circular motions to try and keep his mind off the surgery. She could hear Dr. White talking to Diana, but Paige was trying to ignore what was happening as much as Connor was and she secretly had hoped he would faint to spare himself the torture.

"Almost done Connor…you're doing so good, it's almost over."Diana said leaning over him. He was gasping for air, his chest heaving, each breath bringing a grimace to his already pain twisted face. Paige felt her stomach turn as she glimpsed blood soaked metal tools being passed from Dr. White to Diana and vise versa. Connor began moaning softly and only breaks in his groaning indicated that Dr. White was probing the wound. Paige risked taking his hand in hers. She slowly lifted his sweat soaked appendage to her chest and held it against her heart. His eyes blinked open and she could see he was trying to focus on her. She smiled as she grabbed one of the unsoiled towels and cleaned some sweat and blood from his face. She held his attention for the remainder of the procedure and it was only broken when Diana carefully removed the wooden piece from between Connor's teeth. Even in the swift movement Diana performed, the indents could be seen clearly. Paige looked over at Dr. White, who was bandaging the shoulder, surprised that he had finished.

"You're going to be fine Connor, the bullet didn't break up too much and there was no shattering of the bone." He paused to glance at Connor, who was weakly turning his head in Dr. White's direction. Diana was collecting the blood marinated towels and wrapping Dr. White's instruments within them for later scrubbing. Dr. White began talking to Paige, explaining that Connor needed to be observed carefully and how often the bandaging needed to be changed and the wound tended to. She half listened as she watched Connor. He had tilted his head in her direction but he was no longer awake, the slow rise and fall of his chest clearly indicated he had either fainted or fallen asleep. The candlelight reflected the glistening sweat on his skin and the flecks of blood that still lingered around his wound. Diana was carefully removing the saturated sheets from under Connor. Her movements slightly disturbed Connor, which broke Paige's concentration. She stood to help Diana, who shooed her away, insisting Paige should sit. As she settled back onto the bedside Dr. White entered her field of vision as he checked Connor's breathing and pulse. He scrutinized the unconscious man, before speaking again,

"Paige, I will stay here tonight. I want you to get some rest."

"Can I sleep in here?" She was hesitant to ask but she still felt terrified, the events of that night were still fresh and those men's bodies downstairs were as well. She did not want to be alone.

"Of course." He replied sympathetically. He motioned to Diana, who guided Paige out of the room and into her own. The older woman closed the door behind her and grabbed a cloth near the wash basin. She dragged a chair over and had Paige sit down. She cleaned the girl of all the evidence that something gruesome had happened while talking about Connor to keep her mind off the more unpleasant incident.

"Connor did well in there. I've helped Dr. White on similar patients; they fuss and yell much more." She smiled as she helped Paige remove her boots.

"What is Dr. White doing in there now? Will Connor really be fine? What about the men…the people downstairs?" She couldn't hide the panic in her voice, Connor had saved her again and she felt dependant on him. She needed him.

"Cleaning him up and trying to make him more comfortable. Dr. White makes me leave sometimes after helping him with a male patient. Especially if the man fainted like Connor did. It's rare but he's just trying to protect Connor's privacy. Norris and Dave will help, it's fine dearie, don't fret." Paige felt the heat rise in her face and tried to hide it by unfastening her dress. She felt Diana touch her shoulder in understanding and compassion.

"I am fine, thank you for….everything."

"We look after own, dear and you are one of us." Diana stated helping Paige clean the blood off of herself and dressing in her night clothes. She was thankful again for Diana, the woman was kindly to her like Elizabeth and Gerald had been. How much did Connor tell these people about her? She didn't care; she was more than grateful for their kindness and welcoming reception. She felt like a lost lamb that had finally been reunited with its flock. Yet, she knew she was still fragile and what happened that night did not help. She was broken and cracked, but the people on the homestead seemed to know that and were extra careful. They _wanted_ to aid her, to ease the process of repairs.

After gathering some extra blankets and pillows, Diana and Paige returned to Connor's room. The door was closed, but once Diana knocked and opened it slightly inquiring about entering, Dr. White said it was fine. He had cleaned up Connor and positioned him in the center of the bed. Gone was the layer of sweat he had worn earlier, as well as the rest of his clothes. Paige felt herself blushing deeply upon seeing the side of his hip poking out from under the blankets. His shoulder was more heavily wrapped and his arm was resting across his rib cage. His older wound was no longer covered, Paige noticed as she strayed over to his side. He looked much more peaceful and relaxed and she found herself smiling.

"Paige?" She jumped slightly at her name being spoken. Dr. White was standing behind her and he immediately apologized for startling her. Diana was near the wall directly across from the bed setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. When she glanced back at the doctor, she noticed he was looking at her intently.

"How are you feeling?" He reached for her arm as though he feared she might be dizzy. She was actually surprised that she was not more in shock. After Boston she had basically shut down and she still did not know how long she had been lying in that bed. Had she become accustomed to tragedy so quickly? She assumed it was because Connor would be fine and that she was being taken care of. She explained to Dr. White she felt fine and was only tired. He gave her a skeptical look but accepted her answer. She settled into the nest of blankets Diana had constructed and rolled to her side to watch Connor sleep. Dr. White was conversing with Diana in a muted tone; he motioned to Connor several times before Diana nodded and left the room. Dr. White then proceeded to snuff all the candles save the one on the small table next to the bed. He picked up a chair and sat it next to the bed within reach of Connor. As light vanished from the room, Paige found herself staring at the wavering shadows on the wall, these specters danced to the candle's illumination. The waltz was like a gentle lullaby, easing her into sleep.

She woke to find herself standing in Connor's room. As she slowly pirouetted she noticed the bed was empty and daylight was slowly invading the room. Paige noticed that she was wearing a dress and not her night clothes. As she was staring confused at the outfit, a pair of arms encircled her waist and the warmth of someone's breath stroked her neck before their lips tickled her hairline and then pressed firmly to her. She yielded, craning her neck to allow the kisser more access to her craving flesh. Paige shivered as the lips lightly waltzed up and down her neck; one of the hands abandoned her waist and pulled on the collar of her dress. She quickly yanked at the buttons, feeling the thread give way and the tapping sound at the fastenings hit the floor. She leaned into the kisses that were being planted against her neck and now her exposed shoulder. Reaching an arm behind her, she grabbed a fistful of her companion's hair at the nap of the neck and pushed their head forward, forcing their mouth harder against her flesh. Paige glanced briefly at the hand at her waist as it pulled her tighter backwards, she recognized those dark-skinned hands; Connor. She could the tearing of material as Connor ripped her dress down her shoulder and arm. His hands cupped her cloth-covered breasts and squeezed them in his palms in motion with her breathing. He began to nibble on her lust-enflamed skin and suddenly one hand left her chest and grasped her hair and forced her neck to ankle backwards, giving him complete access to the soft tissue of her collar. Like a vampire, he began to suck on her skin while he continued to feel the soft curves of her chest. Paige was paralyzed by Connor's touch, even though he began to handle her roughly. He tore at her bodice, demanding access to her naked breasts. He wrestled with her clothing, finally winning. He held a breast in each hand as he urged her toward the bed. Connor was delicately rubbing her body as he slipped her dress off around her hips and lifted her to help her step out of it completely. Free of her clothes, Connor began to undress himself. Paige turned around to face him and took of his hands. She placed them at his sides and began to leisurely open his shirt. She noticed the absence of all of his weapons, making it much easier to undress him. She untucked his shirt from his belt and opened it enough to see the sides of his pectoral muscles. She slithered her hand inside his open shirt and began to feel the ripples of his muscles. She pressed a palm against each side his rib cage and allowed her hands to gently rise with each breath he inhaled; the slow expansion of his body. She moved her hands to his chest, spreading his shirt open farther. His firm nipples rested against the flat center of her hands. She could feel the quickened beat as he lifted his own hands and placed them over hers. Escaping his grasp, she wrapped her arms around him, sliding her arms under the back of his shirt as the bare flesh of her naked body grazed his. The cool metal and supple leather of his belt pressed to her body made her feel protected; she was clothed in his body. As their skin touched, he lifted her to his lips and smothered her mouth with his own. She could feel his trousers struggling to contain his excitement and she broke the kiss to release him. He stood still and watched her unbuckle his belt and unwrap his red sash to reveal his erect manhood. She helped him step out of his pants and as she stood she felt him brush up against her and the sharp gasp as she rubbed herself against his tip. With her fingers spread wide, she ran her palms from his abdomen to his shoulders, separating clothes from skin. As his shirt and jacket slumped to the floor he scooped her up by her behind and laid her on the bed. He was upon her instantly, flipped her over on her hands and knees. He reached underneath her to caress her hanging breast and yielding nipples. She craved his touch as he journeyed along her sides and then to her back. He applied pressure to her spine, bending her head toward the bed. He took a handful of her hip and pulled her fiercely against him. He traced her shape before delicately opening her thighs slightly. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a groan as he entered her. He lingered inside her, relishing the warm tightness. Connor leisurely pulled out of her, savoring each taste of her body against him. She couldn't contain herself any longer and she cried out in pleasure….

"Paige? Paige?! Wake up!" The blankets flew around her flailing arms like leaves tossed in a violent wind. She sat up in a panic and saw Dr. White kneeling next to her with a look of shock on his face. She sat in her pile of comforters and sheets and tried to slow her breathing. Diana was standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. Connor still lay in his bed, presumably sleeping, Paige couldn't tell from where she sat.

"I am fine…" She said just realizing how sweaty she was. The morning sun was already thawing out the awkward mood in the room, as Paige rose and began to collect the pallet into a neat and folded pile.

"Are you sure? Your sleep appeared…troubled." Dr. White said standing next to her as she organized her make-shift bed.

"I…was having a strange dream. I am well." She reassured him. Diana seemed to visibly sigh in relief and commented that she would finish making breakfast and bring some up for everyone. Paige moved to assist her, but Dr. White touched her shoulder to stop her.

"Rest, much has happened recently. I would feel more at ease if you took everything slow. I would like if you could help me with Connor. I need to clean and apply a fresh bandage to the wound." She followed him to the bed and leaned over hesitantly. Connor was sleeping deeply, his chest rose and fell slowly.

"His sleep was relatively undisturbed. He did try to move which caused him some pain but Diana was sitting with him when that happened and she was able calm him down. I am going to have to wake him now, unfortunately." Dr. White sat on the bed and pulled the blanket down to Connor's abdomen and studied the older injury on his side. It was pink, swollen and coated in scab tissue. Paige winced just looking at it and took a step away from the bed. He seemed satisfied that it was healing well he placed a hand on Connor's good shoulder which he shook gently as he spoke his name.

"Connor, I need you to wake up for me. Open your eyes Connor." He repeated himself several times before receiving a response. Connor moaned low in his throat and began to furrow his brow. He rolled his head on the pillow a few times before blinking his eyes open. Almost instantly he winced in pain and as his lips parted he moaned loudly.

"Easy Connor, Paige call for Diana, he's in more pain than I thought." Paige dashed from the room and raced down the stairs, while calling for Diana over the banister. Without waiting to see if she followed, Paige ran back up the steps to the bedroom. Dr. White had gotten Connor to sit up in that short amount of time and was preparing some bandages. Connor was leaning forward on his legs, watching Paige and then Diana enter the room, his eyes like that of a wounded and caged animal ready to lash out even at those who would help. His breathing was heavy and each inhale brought a spasm of agony to his face.

"Diana if you could sit behind him, assist him in sitting up. Paige when I ask, you will need to hand me a cloth soaked with the contents of that bottle over there." He absently pointed at the small table next to Connor's bed. Diana sat behind Connor, grabbing a cloth to mop the sweat off his forehead. She offered some words of encouragement and placed her hands gently against his back for support. Paige picked up a towel near the bottle, uncorked it, and drenched the cloth in its contents. She stood ready as Dr. White, slowly unraveled the dressing, exposing the blood doused layers of bandage. He held Connor's forearm as he striped his shoulder bare and studied the wound. He held his free hand out to Paige who quickly handed him the cloth. Before pressing it to the wound he began asking Connor a few questions, if he could move his fingers, how he felt, how the injury felt and Paige realized he was trying to keep Connor's mind off what he was about to do. A sharp hiss escaped Connor's mouth mid-sentence and he growled low in his chest. Paige found herself digging her nails into the palms of her hands as Connor continued to be quite vocal about how much pain he was in. Dr. White tossed the used cloth on the floor by the dirty bandages and began to swathe the injury in fresh bindings. He continued talking to Connor, explaining the wound could take some time to heal and that he wanted to man to rest as much as possible. Connor seemed to be half listening, his head was turned away from Dr. White and he was staring at the floor.

"Connor?" Diana asked as she rose from behind him and came to his side. He didn't answer her. His breathing was slow and deep and he bent his head away from her inquiring gaze. Dr. White noticed as he hurriedly finished his work on the wound and instructed Diana to help him lay Connor back on the bed. With much cringing and grunts, Connor was again resting. He closed his eyes in relief as Dr. White checked how secure the dressing was and Diana cleaned the floor free of soiled bandages. Paige remained standing next to the bed until Dr. White broke her concentration.

"Paige?"

"May I sit with him?" She asked shyly. He gave her a warm smile and nodded.

"I'll bring some food up for you both dearie." Diana whispered as she closed the door behind her. Alone with Connor, she didn't know what to do. Paige hovered awkwardly by his bedside and finally decided to quietly drag a chair next to him and sit down. As she settled into the seat she glanced at Connor, who was staring at her. He looked exhausted. Startled by his gaze, she looked away.

"Are you…well?" He spoke with exertion, the pain of his injuries quite apparent. She nodded before replying with a simple yes. She gave him a side-ways glance and saw he was no longer looking at her, but at the ceiling instead.

"I am glad." He sighed.

"Thank you Connor." She wasn't sure what else to say to him. He had saved her twice and took her into his home. She felt embarrassed suddenly, as though she was afraid he knew about the dreams she had been having ever since she met him. When he took her hand and held it, she nearly jumped out of her seat from shock.

"You do not need to thank me…"

. . .

After several months of recovery, Connor was finally feeling like himself again. The wound in his side stung occasionally, reminding him of his success and at the same time his failures. His people were gone, the land in the hands of those who did not appreciate it and who raped it continuously. It was a sad truth that he wrestled with daily. He found solace in the fact that, at least for now, the Templar threat had been consumed by the flames of his rage and his optimistic belief in freedom. He found himself spending more time on the homestead and Paige was a welcome companion in the home. It had felt barren and cold since Achilles had passed, but Paige brought life back into its walls. She was a blossoming flower. The once timid and awkward girl, had become a confident and self-sufficient young woman, excelling under Dr. White's tutelage and learning all she could from the other people of the homestead. They had welcomed her without question. Like many of them, a troubled and dark past had brought her there and that was more than enough for her to belong. Connor was thankful she never questioned his absences or when she needed to tend to his minor injuries. She had told him once that she did not need to know what he did or where he went, she was thankful he had helped her and given her a place to call home. She knew what he did was dangerous and she told him she knew about the basement, but she had given him a good reason to keep her uninformed; the more she knew the more danger she might be in at some point. He had told her, just knowing him could be hazardous, but she had shrugged it off having full confidence in his abilities.

Paige did feel like she had grown during the time she had been assisting Connor with his recovery. Gone were the dreams she had been experiencing, in their place was a fondness and respect for him; he felt more like an older brother than anything else. She was happy at the homestead and she felt safe again…she felt like she was home.


End file.
